Sorting Hat on Strike
by Reading Redhead
Summary: ON HIATUS The Sorting Hat sings and interesting song in Harry's seventh year... Now read chapter two!
1. Sing a Different Tune

Disclaimer: I suppose I should mention that I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters, house names, settings, et cetera (which is probably a good thing, because I wouldn't know what to do with them if I did). All of that stuff belongs to the wonderful J. K. Rowling. However, I do own all of the products of my imagination, and I make use of them freely in this story.

_Sorting Hat on Strike_

Chapter 1: Sing a Different Tune

            As Harry Potter walked into the entrance hall with his friends Ron and Hermione, he couldn't help but feel that, after a summer away, he was finally home. He stopped for a minute, savoring the atmosphere that was unique to Hogwarts, marveling at the wonder that he had actually managed to make it to the beginning of his seventh year when he shouldn't have even survived his first.  
  
            Harry wouldn't have survived his first, if Voldemort had had his way. Then again, if everything had happened the way Voldemort had planned, Harry would have been dead when he was barely a year old, and the world would now be ruled by evil and darkness.  
  
            But thankfully for the world, Harry was tougher that Voldemort had ever predicted. Harry smiled, and went through the door to the right that led into the Great Hall. He, Ron, and Hermione walked past the Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff tables before sitting down with the rest of the Gryffindors.  
  
            "Who's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?" Hermione asked, looking up at the staff table.  
  
            "Dunno," said Ron, glancing at the front of the Hall. "Maybe they haven't got one, and we don't have to take it?"  
  
            "Now's the time we need to learn it, more than ever," said Harry. "Voldemort's out there." He saw Ron shudder a bit at the mention of his name, but less than would have been normal a few years before. Then again, a few years before, the wizarding world had not had to deal with Voldemort's return. "We'll probably find out after the Sorting," Harry said as he saw the doors to the Great Hall open. Professor McGonagall came in, carrying a three-legged stool and an old, patched wizard's hat, leading a group of wet and bedraggled looking first years. Looking up at the ceiling of the Hall, which showed the sky outside, Harry saw that it had begun to storm.  
  
            "Must've been miserable, crossing the lake in this weather," Ron said to Harry.  
  
            "Yeah," said Harry vaguely.  
  
            "Will you two be quiet?" Hermione whispered at them. "I want to hear what the Sorting Hat has to say!"  
  
            "Probably more of that unity rubbish," Ron muttered to Harry. "Don't get why it keeps spouting it off when it's obvious no one's going to listen."  
  
            Harry was about to reply, but was silenced by a jab in the ribs. He twisted around and saw Hermione fuming at him. "Sorry," he mouthed, then turned to watch as Professor McGonagall set the Sorting Hat down on the stool in front of the staff table. A small rip at the brim opened, and the Hat began to sing:  
  
_When__Hogwarts__School__ was started,_

_It was intended to unite _

_All those with magical talent, _

_But as we see here tonight, _

_That goal has been abandoned _

_For favor of friendly competition._

_Students are separated and taught _

_That the other Houses are the opposition._

_Instead of learning to work together _

_As such a fledgling community should, _

_The students have been divided up, _

_Not able to work for the common good. _

_You failed to heed my warnings,  
  
Though I gave them many times.  
  
You merely sat and stared  
  
As I spun off my rhymes.  
  
I've sorted students diligently  
  
For far too long, I fear,  
  
Spouting off the qualities  
  
Of different Houses every year.  
  
But this year will be different  
  
Because this year, you see,  
  
If you want to have a Sorting,  
  
It won't be done by me!  
  
I'm tired of preaching harmony  
  
As my message goes unheard,  
  
So until you figure out your problems,  
  
You'll not hear me say another word!_  
  
            For a minute, the entire Hall sat motionless, staring at the Hat. The only movement was the slight flickering of the floating candles all around the Hall. Everyone was attempting to take in what they had just heard.  
  
            Beside Harry, Hermione was the first to recover. She took in a slow, quivering breath and, on the exhale, said simply, "The Sorting Hat has gone on strike."


	2. First Year Fiasco

A/N:  Due to the amazing demand for this story to be continued, I have decided to try and turn what was originally intended to be a one-shot into a full-blown story.  I'm still struggling with an idea for an interesting plot, so this might not be some of my best work, but that doesn't mean it won't be the best I can make it.  I probably won't update very often, and updates will be sporadic at best (which means "not unless I have free time that I'm not using to work on my original story").

Oh, and here's an interesting fact for you (from jkrowling.com, so it's true): before J. K. came up with the idea of the Sorting Hat, she was considering having a panel of ghosts or prefects decide who belonged where.

Chapter 2: First Year Fiasco

            "What?" Ron replied incredulously.  "It can't strike!  How're the new first years supposed to be sorted?"

            Up at the head table, it appeared that this was exactly what the professors and headmaster were attempting to figure out.  They had recovered from their shock before the students, and now were all huddled around Dumbledore's seat, conversing in whispers and throwing occasional glances at the hat.

            The trio watched in silence.  Most of the professors were doing a good job of staying calm at first, but as the argument escalated, it became obvious that there was no easy solution that everyone could agree to.  A voice (Harry was not sure whose) shouted, "Let's see if this will get it to talk!  Reducto!" and a jet of light shot at the Hat.

            "Protego!" Professor McGonnagal yelled, pointing her wand at the Sorting Hat and shielding it from the curse.  The deflected spell hurtled straight for Snape, who ducked at the last minute.  Harry heard Ron mutter under his breath, "Why did it have to miss?"

            All of the commotion at the head table was soon joined in by the sound of the students at every house table discussing the current situation.  The first years, still standing as they had been, looked even more nervous than they had before the Hat had sung its song.  In all of the noise, Harry had to practically yell to get the attention of Hermione sitting next to him.

            "What do you think about this?" he asked.

            Hermione, also speaking loudly, replied, "I say it's about time."  Ignoring the stunned look on Harry's face, she continued.  "I've always thought that the house system was flawed.  It's just another aid to…to Voldemort, destroying the unity of this school.  As it is, people from other houses barely speak to each other!"

            "What about in classes?  And the DA?" Harry asked.

            "Oh, that's different," Hermione said, brushing the matter aside.  "Students are _forced_ to be in classes together, and there still aren't any Slytherins in the DA."

            "And never will be, I suspect," said Ron, who had been listening to the professors' conversation until now.  "_They're_ the ones who don't want to be around _us_, Hermione.  Nothing we can do about that."

            Harry knew Ron was correct, but he could not forget what Dumbledore had said at the end of Harry's fourth year: "I say to you all, once again—in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided."  Harry would have spent more time pondering this, if it had not been for Dumbledore's voice ringing through the entire Hall:

            "_SILENCE!_"

            The noise stopped abruptly.  Dumbledore smiled, then, when he was sure that he had the attention of all the students present, continued.  "The Sorting Hat has warned this school in the past.  At this time, I and most of the teachers—" he glared at Snape "—feel that we should heed this warning.  We will not use an alternative method of sorting the new students.  First years, I ask you to please sit down at a table where you can find room.  This will not necessarily be your permanent house, but you will stay there until the Sorting Hat is convinced that the danger of disharmony is gone."

            Harry heard someone mutter loudly, "And how long will that take?", but Dumbledore took no notice and continued.  "I hope that this minor setback has not ruined your appetites," he said, and tremendous amounts of food appeared along the house tables.  "Now, enjoy the feast!"

            Harry, who was very hungry, wanted nothing more than to serve himself some of the varied food and eat.  Therefore, he was mildly annoyed when he felt someone tap his shoulder.  Turning around, he saw that it was a first year boy, with a freckled face and pale brown hair.  "Is there anyone sitting here?" he asked timidly, pointing to the space on the bench next to Harry that was empty.

            "No, you can sit there," Harry said in as kind a voice as he could manage when he was ravenously hungry.  The boy sat down, still looking anxious.  Remembering how nervous he had been on his first day at Hogwarts, Harry asked, "What's your name?" even though it meant he would have to wait even longer for food.

            "I'm Alexander," the boy said, with a bit more confidence than before.

            Harry was about to tell Alexander who he was when he heard Hermione, who was sitting two seats down, shrieking loudly.  He turned and saw her jump up from the bench.  It appeared as though the new first year sitting next to her had spilled hot soup all down her robes.  However, when Harry looked at him, he did not seem repentant in the least.  In fact, it almost looked like he was laughing.

            Hermione, regaining her composure, whipped out her wand and performed a simple spell to dry her robes.  She sat back down, though closer to Ron that she had been before, making her further from the first year.

            Next to her, in a voice that clearly said, "I told you so," Ron asked, "Still liking the Sorting Hat's song, Hermione?"


End file.
